


stars are just burning balls of gas (get over it)

by calerine



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calerine/pseuds/calerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ohno/nino/aiba as SPACE ADVENTURERS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stars are just burning balls of gas (get over it)

Nino and Ohno are in the greenhouse when Aiba wakes up. He knows because they're always there at the start of Aiba's shift, even when they have their duties to attend to. Also he hears them talking all the way in his bunk, while he's still buried under the million layers of blankets he found in the supplies cabinet.  
  
No one told him space would be  _this_ cold.  
  
The ship hums gently under Aiba's feet, vibrating through his porcupine-printed socks and Aiba allows himself  _just one_ sock slide all across the main hallway, but the momentum doesn't carry him far enough so one becomes two, three until he gets to the door of the greenhouse and grins at the camera.  
  
The red light blinks cheekily and Aiba waits for Nino to have his fun.  
  
The door swishes open eventually. Nino at the tomatoes in front of the door, is busy pretending to check for mold when Aiba  _knows_  he hasn't the faintest idea how to do that. He's not the one with the PhD in Botany after all, and every time Aiba's tried to teach him, he's frowned and asked a bunch of irrelevant questions about the temperature of the sun. Plus Aiba's good at his job; mold is Public Enemy Number One. Or at least  _his_.  
  
"Ah, you're here, Aiba-chan!" Ohno waves, from all the way across the wide room, between the yuzu trees and baby sunflowers. He picks his way through the aisles slowly, twisting his knees and ankles to navigate through the tiny spaces; skillful from eight months of practise.  
  
Aiba can't help taking Nino's hand gently. He knows Nino feels anchorless at times, isolated as they are. In response, Nino sidles closer.  
  
He always gets like this at the end of his shifts, when his eyes are strained from all the artificial light and he's questioning the reasons they're here in the first place, such a godforsaken distance from Earth. He's grumpy and irritable, yearning for rest and maybe Aiba only feels a little guilty about the fact that he loves Nino like that. Well, he loves Nino all the time but times like this especially.  
  
"Nino," Aiba says, surprised at the scratchy quality of his own voice. He clears his throat and squeezes Nino's hand. Nino makes a non-committal sound at the back of his throat, but rests his forehead on Aiba's shoulder anyway, exhaling deeply. Aiba feels his heart swell.  
  
It's warm in here, bright, even though all the sun-screens are down to emulate nighttime. Aiba strokes his open palm down Nino's back, over his stiff uniform, feels the line of his spine and the muscles working when he lifts his tired eyes to meet Aiba's, and Aiba is nothing if not compliant.  
  
He leans down a little, crowding into Nino's space to kiss him while Nino pushes up on his toes and they meet. Nino smells like tomato leaves and milky coffee; tastes like it too, the heat of his mouth makes Aiba think of hot tea on cold nights, comforting. Aiba takes his hand from the small of Nino's back up to the sharp angles of his jawline so his fingertips rest on the soft skin on the back of Nino's neck. His thumb strokes the familiar frustration of Nino's bottom lip carefully. It's coaxing and careful, willing give-and-take, quiet huffs of breath tickling skin, and Aiba lets Nino take the lead, lets Nino lick searchingly into his mouth and rest his hand in the pocket of Aiba's uniform.  
  
Ohno's there by the time Nino pulls away. "Better?" Aiba asks, only half teasing. Nino shrugs, and reaches for Ohno who goes willingly, threading his fingers into his hair while Nino making quiet, content noises into Ohno's mouth. Ohno doesn't make a sound when he kisses, Aiba knows.  
  
But it's even better because it's  _Ohno,_  and because he does this wonderful thing where he presses gradually into it until you're both lined up, chest to chest and belly and hip and you're  _so_  close Aiba imagines sometimes that they could fuse into one being, a single space adventurer. When Ohno kisses he kisses with his whole body, his broad palm spread out on Nino's skinny chest and the other on the slope of Nino's shoulder, under the collar of his red and white uniform and Aiba realises belatedly that he's still holding Nino's hand.  
  
Nino rolls his shoulders when they part and Aiba is still not used to them in this light, mirror images of each other so he hooks his index finger on Ohno's.  
  
"You should go to bed," Aiba says, trying to infuse a bit of Matsujun into his stance but they only ever see each other in video calls so he's not so sure about the exact way he power-poses.  
  
Nino nods, blinks. "See you in ten hours. Don't set anything on fire while I'm gone!"  
  
Aiba's laughing when Ohno calls back, "we'll try our best!" and the door slides shut with a soft  _schnick_.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted [here](http://beertoface.livejournal.com/11748.html).


End file.
